


In the Heart

by clgfanfic



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a post-"Warriors" story</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Mating Rituals #1 under the pen name Casey Squire.

Jim ignored the echoing slam of the apartment door.  _Blair_ , he thought.  _He must've had a good day_.  The energetic graduate student had a tendency to slam the door when he was excited or jazzed.

Without realizing it Ellison listened as the younger man crossed the living room to his bedroom.  A soft thud meant Blair's backpack now lay in a heap next to his desk.  The whisper of shoes being pulled off sock-clad feet was followed by two more thuds as the shoes were tossed into a corner.  Organization and Blair Sandburg didn't often go hand in hand.

Jim leaned forward against the wall, looking out at the city while he continued to listen.  Blair's thick flannel shirt was tossed onto the back of his chair, and he tugged his t-shirt out of his pants.  That sent a sudden flash of longing through Ellison and he forced the reaction away.

Blair's fingers combed through his long hair, and then with a sigh, Sandburg walked out, pausing in the living room as he spotted the empty coffee cup still sitting on the coffee table.

"Jim?" he said in a normal voice.

"Out here," Ellison replied, his voice raised to reach the younger man.  A wave of happiness washed over him and he wondered briefly when the grad student had become such an important part of his life.

Stepping out to join his friend on the balcony, Blair grinned a little nervously, his gaze flickering from Ellison to the city beyond.  "How're you doin'?"

Jim shrugged and offered Sandburg a half-hearted smile. "I'll be all right."

"That's not what I asked, man."  Sandburg walked out to join his friend.

Jim looked back out at the city and sighed.  "I'm going to miss him," he said softly.  "He taught me more than I ever realized."

Blair nodded, moving to stand next to Ellison.  "I'm really sorry."

Jim nodded.

"When did you get back?"

"Couple of hours ago."

Blair joined Ellison, leaning against the wall.  "How did it go in Peru?"

"It was smooth.  Someone from the American embassy met me, helped clear the paperwork."

"And his family?"

"What you'd expect.  They were pretty upset, but they accepted it."  He turned his head, meeting Sandburg's concerned gaze.  "Better than I have, I guess."

"Give it time," Blair said, reaching out to rest a hand gently on Ellison's shoulder.

Jim looked away.  Taking his mentor back to Peru had been impossibly difficult, accepting the fact that the man was dead even harder.  So few people knew about his sentinel abilities, and fewer still truly understood them from the position of lived experience.  Now the one man who was also a sentinel was dead.  It was like losing a father, a brother, a mentor, all rolled into one.  Like losing an anchor.

And at the same time Jim felt more comfortable with his abilities and his role as a protector.  It was a role he would never again reject.  To do so would dishonor the legacy he'd been given and the man who'd given it to him.

And then there was Blair…  At first he'd grabbed onto the kid because he'd had the answers Jim needed to keep sanity intact.  Sandburg had saved his life, helped him come to terms with his sentinel abilities, and helped him learn how to use them.  But somewhere in the process "the kid" had become "Blair Sandburg", an intelligent, courageous, competent partner and friend.

He turned, leaning back against the wall, his arms folded across his chest.  _And now?_ he asked himself.

 _And now he's become something else_.

"You feel like talking about it?"

"Maybe later," Ellison said, feeling confused and frustrated.

Sandburg nodded.  "Okay.  But, Jim?  Don't blame yourself, okay?"

Ellison smiled faintly.  "No, Chief.  I'm not blaming myself.  I'm just…"  He trailed off, shaking his head.

Blair nodded.  "Yeah, I think I know."  He took a deep breath and smiled.  "So, you hungry?"

"Huh?" Jim asked, his gaze focusing on Sandburg.

"You want to eat?"

Ellison shook his head.  "I'm not hungry."

"You sure?" Blair pressed.  "Airplane food, man, like that's a one-way ticket to carcinogen city.  You didn't eat that stuff, did you?"

A faint smile reached Ellison's lips.  He shook his head.

"Well, then, you've got to be hungry, man.  Come on, there's some pot roast in the fridge.  I'll warm it up, toss in some potatoes, few carrots, you'll love it."

Ellison was too tired to argue, and he was hungry, despite his mood.  "Yeah, okay.  Sounds good."

Sandburg's expression brightened and he capered into the living room ahead of Ellison, turning to talk over his shoulder.  "I've been thinking about this shaman thing…"

"Oh?" Jim said, feeling his mood lighten.  Sandburg was infectious.  He'd missed him sorely while he was in Peru, delivering his friend's body back to his people.

"Yeah," Blair said as he reached the kitchen and set about getting their supper ready.  "I think it was more metaphorical rather than literal, you know?  Like a philosophical passing of the torch."

"If you say so," Ellison said, leaning against the wall where he was out of the way, but where he could still watch the anthropologist.

Sandburg continued, weaving his theory with examples from this tribe and that clan and those people.  Ellison let the words wash over him, not paying attention to the details, but basking in the enthusiasm and familiar comfort of the younger man's presence.  Sandburg was a part of him now; part of his life.  He was part of what Ellison thought about when he thought about "home".  The realization sent a jolt of fear and excitement through the detective.

Home hadn't been a place he'd enjoyed much as a kid.  And in the Army he'd never really had someplace he could call home, which suited him just fine at the time.  Carolyn had changed that a little, for a while, but he spent more time on the streets or in the precinct than in the home they'd tried to build.  _Which is why she divorced me_ , Jim concluded.

But now…  Now there was Sandburg.

He watched Blair peel the potatoes, slice them and add them to the simmering pot roast.  The carrots followed.  Sandburg added some spices and Ellison sniffed – basil, sage, and a tiny bit of garlic.  Perfect.

Sandburg was still talking, speculating on the roles of sentinel, mentor and companion.  Sandburg was always thinking, always putting stuff together, pulling them apart, learning, testing, coming up with conclusions and new ideas.  Just watching the process was exhausting as far as Ellison was concerned, but it was just who Sandburg was.  A graduate student.

"Jim?"

Ellison shook his head and blinked.  "What?"

Blair gave him a slightly exasperated look.  "You didn't hear a word I said, did you."

It wasn't a question.  Ellison shrugged.  "Sorry."

"That's okay," Blair said.  "You want some wine?"

"Sounds good," Jim said, accepting a glass and carrying it into the living room.

Sandburg followed him.  "Supper should be ready in half an hour, forty-minutes."

Ellison nodded, taking a sip of the slightly sweet red wine.  "You know, I never apologized for losing it when–"  He stopped.  To use his mentor's name would disturb his new existence in the afterlife.  "When–"

"I know what you mean," Blair interrupted.  "And it's okay.  No hard feelings, man."

Ellison met the younger man's blue eyes.  "Thanks."

Blair's head dipped, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.  Ellison stared, noting the pink on the man's cheeks, the long dark eyelashes, the full lips, damp with the wine–

 _Whoa, Jimbo_ , he caught himself.  _What the hell are you thinking_?

 _That he looks good enough to_ –

_Stop!_

Ellison took a deep breath and rolled his head.  Where the hell was this coming from?

"You want some time alone?" Blair asked.

"Huh?  Uh, no.  No, sorry, I was just–"

"You looked like you were back in Peru," Blair filled in.

Ellison started to speak, then stopped.  He shot Sandburg a smile.  "I guess.  Jet lag."

Blair nodded, but Jim could see the sadness in the man's eyes.  Or was it hurt?  He couldn't tell.

 _You know he wants you to open up to him more_ , the voice in his head chastised.

Yeah, that was all it was.  Blair wanted him to talk…

 _If that's what you want to believe_.

Feeling the tension begin to gather between his shoulder blades, Jim rolled his shoulders.  _Where the hell's this coming from?_

Ellison sighed, then swallowed a gulp of the wine, concentrating on the soft burn of the alcohol, almost as warm as the ache in his groin.  _Stop.  Stop.  Stop!_ he commanded himself.

 _Jimbo, what's wrong?_ the voice questioned.  _You've found men attractive before_.

 _But I haven't been living with them!_ Ellison snapped back.

"You know, Jim," Blair said.  "This whole thing's got me rethinking some of my assumptions."

"Oh?" Jim asked, grateful for any distraction.

Sandburg leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the wine glass in his hands.  "Burton was sure sentinels sort of self-selected because of their genetic advantage, but given what you've told me about what happened when we were in Peru looking for Simon and Darrel, and what happened this time when you… gave up your abilities, I'm thinking that maybe there's more to it than just a genetic advantage."

Jim watched Sandburg's eyes, enjoying the excitement that was reflected there.  "Which means?"

"Maybe there's a… ritual aspect to all this.  Uh, or a hereditary take…  Some might call it metaphysical, but that's just a western read, you know?"

Ellison smiled briefly.  "No, I can't say that I do."

Sandburg paused, then chuckled.  "Sorry, Jim," he apologized, shaking his head. "I've just been doing a lot of thinking while you were gone and–"

"And you want to share it."

Sandburg's eyes widened slightly.  "Yeah.  Yeah, exactly."

"I don't mind listening, Chief, but I don't follow most of what you say."

Blair grinned.  "Academic speak.  You have to know the code."

"No thanks."

"Hey, I learned cop-speak, the least you can do is learn my language."

Ellison shook his head, one hand coming up in a gesture of defense.  "Not a chance, Chief."

Sandburg spent the next twenty minutes translating his latest theories into language Ellison could understand, if not exactly appreciate.  The detective spent the time studying his partner – the man's slender fingers, the expressive hand movements and expressions, the inviting hollow at the base of the man's throat, the way his jeans clung sexily to muscled thighs, the way his hair moved as he talked, whispering softly.

_And you want to get your fingers in there, pull his head back and_ _–_

"Huh, I think supper's ready," Jim said, standing.

Blair stopped mid-sentence.  "Okay.  Look, why don't you go change and I'll get it on the table."

Ellison nodded, making his escape up the stairs to his bedroom.  He stopped in the middle of the room, his hands on his hips, and shook his head.  _I've gotta stop this, right now_.

_Or what?  You might give in and do what you want to do?_

Ignoring the taunting voice, Ellison quickly stripped out of the suit he'd worn to complete his business with the Peruvian government and the flight home.  Slipping into a pair of worn sweat pants and an old t-shirt, Jim padded barefoot down the stairs, the aroma of the waiting food stirring his appetite.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Lying on the sofa, supper eaten, dishes washed, and a cup of coffee in hand, Ellison finally allowed himself to relax.  The teasing voice seemed to have disappeared, and some of Sandburg's "earth music" played on the stereo, the soothing beat driving the tension out of his shoulders and neck.  Across the room, Sandburg sat in a chair, his legs draped over one arm, a book open on his lap.

Jim took a sip of the coffee, admiring Sandburg in the yellow-orange glow of the light that shone behind him.

 _He is handsome_.

Jim groaned audibly.

"Jim?"

He looked at the younger man and shook his head.  "Huh, just, my shoulder," he lied.

Blair swung his legs over the chair arm and stood, tossing the book onto the seat.  "Here, let me take a look."

Ellison jack-knifed, quickly sitting up.  "That's okay–"

"No problem, man," Sandburg insisted.

 _No problem, he says.  No problem, my ass_.

 _No, it's his ass you want_.

"Will you–?" Jim growled, but stopped himself.  _Oh, man, I'm losin' it here._

"Yeah?"

"Huh?"

"You were asking me if I'd… what?"

"Uh, uh…"

"Jim?"

"Coffee," he said, suddenly inspired.  "I was going to ask if you'd mind making more coffee."

Sandburg looked skeptical.  "Coffee?"

Ellison nodded.  _Oh, that was real smooth, Ellison_.

"Uh, yeah, sure," the grad student replied.  "I'll just go make some more coffee."

"Thanks," Jim called after Blair as he left, then dropped back against the sofa with a sigh.

_You want him._

_He's my partner_.

 _Not yet, he isn't_.

_I can't!_

_You won't_.

"Okay, coffee's on," Blair said, from behind Ellison.

Jim jumped, sitting forward before he could stop himself.

"Jim, come on, man, what's up?"

Ellison glanced over his shoulder.  Sandburg stood, his hands resting on his hips, a concerned expression on his face.  Jim's gaze flickered from his face to his crotch and back.  He moaned, and dropped back against the sofa again.

"Jim?"

"Sandburg…"  Ellison trailed off, unsure of what to say.  A moment later he sucked in a sharp breath as Blair's hands settled on his shoulders, thumbs digging into suddenly rigid muscles.

"Man, Jim, like, you're tied up in knots!"

 _You don't know the half of it_.

 _Tell him_.

"Just relax, man," Blair urged.

If anything, Ellison's muscles tightened further.

"Lean back," Sandburg ordered.  "Come on, back.  Lean back."

The detective complied.

"Okay, now, shut your eyes."

"Sandburg–"

"Close your eyes," Blair instructed through half-clenched teeth.

Ellison sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

"Now, take a deep breath…"

Jim drew in a breath, feeling his diaphragm and ribs expand, then contract.  He drew in a second and felt Sandburg's hands begin to work on his shoulders, rubbing the tension out.

"Concentrate, Jim.  Relax…"

"I'm trying."

"Try harder."

_Or just get hard._

"Would you–"

"Would I what?"

"Uh, keep rubbing," Ellison explained.  "It feels good."

"Uh, sure, but I want you to concentrate on relaxing."

Ellison took another deep breath, wondering if he was going to live through the night at the rate he was going, then let it out, forcing himself to relax.  Between the breathing, the concentration, and the skillful hands massaging his shoulders Jim found himself quickly melting against the sofa.

He tilted his head back when Sandburg's fingers worked along his collarbones, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

"Feel good?"

"Mmm."

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"What's really going on?"

Ellison's eyes cracked open and he stared up at Sandburg.  "What do you mean?"

Blair's head tilted down, his long hair seductively framing his face.  "Jim, you've been acting… strange."

"Strange?"

Sandburg nodded.

"Must be the jet lag."

"Okay," Sandburg said, but his tone told another tale: "I don't believe you."

Ellison leaned forward and turned so he could meet the anthropologist's concerned gaze.  "Look, I'm sorry.  I guess I don't have my feet under me yet."

Blair nodded.  "I can understand that.  But maybe if you talked about it…?"

Jim pushed himself up and paced across the room, pausing at the doors leading to the balcony.  Staring out at the lights of the city, he shoved his hands into the pockets in the sweats and said, "I guess part of it's the fact that our relationship is different now."

"Different?  What do you mean?" Blair asked, rounding the sofa and moving to stand next to Jim.

Ellison looked down at the younger man.  "You're the only one who can help me now."

"Jim, I've been helping you all along."

"But I always knew that if I really needed to, I could go back to Peru.  I could go get help."

Sandburg nodded.  "Jim," he said, reaching out to rest his hand on the detective's shoulder.  "What you're feeling is perfectly natural."

Ellison turned slightly, forcing Sandburg to remove his hand.  _What I'm feeling right now is not perfectly natural_.

 _Bullshit!_   _You love him, you want him.  What's more natural than that?_

"Look, you just need a little time to grieve.  Don't deny yourself that.  And I want to help."

Ellison smiled briefly.  "There you go again."

"What?"

"Being a shaman."

Sandburg chuckled.  "Yeah, I guess so.  But I was charged with being your spiritual advisor, so I'm advising.  Don't be afraid to feel, Jim.  Emotions are normal."

_Even if what I want to feel is you in my arms?_

Ellison nodded.

"Maybe you should take a few days off," Blair suggested.  "Borrow that cabin Simon's got up in the mountains and just let yourself work this all out.  I mean, it's like you've had a lot of stuff happen in a short time.  It's gonna take its toll."

"Can't do it," Ellison said.  "Besides, that's not me.  I need to get back to work."

Sandburg nodded.  "Do what you think is best."

Ellison turned back.  "I really appreciate you being here."

Blair flushed slightly and dipped his head again.  "Thanks," he said.

"Think I'm going to call it a night."

 _Coward_.

"Yeah, sounds like a good idea."  Sandburg crossed the room, stopping to grab Jim's empty coffee cup off the coffee table and carried it back to the kitchen.  He rinsed it and his own cup out and left them in the sink to wash in the morning.

"Good night," Jim called, escaping up the stairs.

 _Goddamn coward_.

 _I can't take the chance!_ Jim snapped at himself.  _I can't risk our friendship, our working relationship.  I need him.  I can't do this alone._

With an angry half-growl, Ellison stripped out of his sweats and T-shirt and climbed into bed, curled into a ball, and pulled the covers up around his chin.  Maybe he did need some time alone.  He was obviously going crazy, talking to himself…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

He was running naked through the jungle.  Dim light filtered through the trees to the jungle floor, leaving the rich soil dappled with patterns of light.  The pungent smell of the land filled his nostrils, urging him to greater speed.  He leaped a fallen tree trunk, landing silently and continued on.

Birds cried and sang, insects hummed and buzzed.  Frogs added their songs to the cacophony.  In the undergrowth animals darted away from the running sentinel.  He knew where he was going.

With a lunge he cleared another fallen tree, and landed in a crouch.  Twenty yards away were the old ruins and, on the ruins, the black panther waited for him, its golden eyes shining.

Ellison stood, and as he did, the panther shimmered, changing until the Chopek shaman stood before him.  It wasn't his dead friend; rather, it was the same man who'd come to him in Peru.  The man who'd taken his sentinel abilities away, then given them back.

"Welcome," the Chopek shaman said.

"Who are you?" Jim asked.

The man smiled.  "You know who I am, James Ellison."

"My guide," Jim said.  "My spirit guide.  You're the panther, the essence of the sentinel."

The man nodded.  "I am that.  And I am also the spirit of the Chopek."

"You were the first sentinel," Jim said, not understanding how he knew that fact.

Another nod.  "I was my people's first sentinel, but not _the_ first sentinel.  We have been here always.  We protect the people so that they might live and grow wise.  Do you want to be a sentinel, James Ellison?"

"Yes," Jim replied without hesitation.  "Yes, I do."

"Good.  You are a sentinel, James Ellison.  It is in you.  It is earned.  It is a gift.  It is all these things."

"I think I understand.  But why am I here?" Jim asked.  "What do you want?"

"You are not alone, James Ellison.  One mentor dies, another takes his place."

Jim nodded.  "I know.  And I know I'm prepared to make that transition."

"Who is the one called Blair Sandburg?" the spirit shaman asked, sitting down on the weathered stone.  He patted the stone slab and Ellison joined him.

"He's my friend, my teacher, my partner," Jim said, then added, "He's my 'spiritual advisor.'"

The man nodded.  "He is many things, is he not?"

"Yes," Jim admitted.  "Blair is many things."

"Yet you fear part of what he is.  Why?"

"I don't understand," Jim replied, afraid he understood all too well.

"You desire him."

Ellison looked away, feeling the blood rush to his face.

"Does he desire you?"

"I don't know," Jim said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You know, James Ellison," the spirit shaman corrected.  "Open your heart and know the truth."

An invisible blow rocked through Ellison's body and he sucked in a deep breath, both hands coming up to clutch at his chest.  Sounds and images exploded in his mind: Blair looking at him, his breath catching, Blair touching him, his skin suddenly hot, the sound of Blair's heartbeat when they sat together, the soft moans and whimpers of an erotic dream and the softly whispered "Jim…"

Jim jerked as the visions released him.  He sat, panting, sweat pouring from his body.  He raised a hand to wipe his face and realized he was trembling.  He cupped a hand over his mouth and wiped the sweat away.  "Why?" he asked.  "Why are you showing me this?"

"You know the reason, James Ellison."

Ellison blinked and the spirit shaman was gone.  In his place sat his recently dead friend.

"Do not be ashamed of the feelings in your heart."

Jim opened his mouth to speak, but his friend was gone.  In that instant he understood another truth – from the first sentinel to the last, they were all connected, all part of the spirit of the Chopek.  Somehow it was all connected.  He no longer felt alone.  His adopted people had not deserted him.  Blair had not deserted him.  He was surrounded by magic.

With a suddenness that gave him no time to react, Jim was falling.  He cried out–

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

–And sat up in his bed.  His eyes immediately adjusted to the lack of light and the voice echoing up the stairs.

"Jim?  Are you all right, man?"

Ellison turned and found Sandburg standing at the edge of the bed, a concerned expression on his face.  He grinned.  The younger man's hair was rumpled and sleep-tangled, his eyes wide and blinking as he tried to adjust to the darkness.

"I'm fine, Chief.  Sorry if I woke you."

"I heard you yell.  What happened?"

"Weird dream."

Sandburg sat down on the edge of the bed, asking, "Tell me about it?"

"I was falling…"

"Falling?"

Jim pushed himself back so he could lean back against the hear of the bed.  "I dreamed I was back in Peru.  My guide was talking to me…"

"What did he say?" Blair asked, leaning forward slightly.

Ellison could hear the excitement spark the man's heart rate to a quicker pace.  "Uh…"

"Look, Jim, if you don't want to tell me, that's okay."

Disappointment rang clearly in the words.  "It's not that I don't want to tell you," Jim explained.  "I'm just not sure you're going to like it."  A surge of anxiety changed Sandburg's scent and before he could say anything, Ellison continued.  "Okay, look, we've been working together for a while now, and we're friends, right?"

"Of course," Blair assured.

Jim sat up straighter, trying to find the words he wanted to explain.

 _Just tell him how you feel_.

 _It's not that simple_.

_Yes, it is._

"Look, you mean a lot to me…" Jim said, trailing off.  Sandburg sat in silence, waiting for him to continue.  "I mean, you saved my life, helped me with the whole sentinel thing, you watch my back, you're my friend.  My partner.  You're my teacher when it comes to this sentinel stuff."

"Jim," Blair cut in.  "What are you trying to say?"

Ellison sighed heavily.

_Just tell him!_

"Lately I've been–  I've started to–  I want–"

Sandburg chuckled softly.  "Man, you sound like you're trying to propose."

"Something like that," Jim admitted.

"Huh?"

"Damn it, Sandburg, I want you!"

_It's about time!_

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Ellison grumbled.

"Let me get this straight.  Are you saying that you're interested in me in a sexual way?"

"Yes," Jim said.

"I see."

"Look, maybe it's just a passing hormone… or something," Ellison tried to hedge, but he stopped when Sandburg reached out and gripped his arm.

"Jim, I want you to listen to me, okay?"

"Yeah?"

"All my life Naomi told me that love in any form was a good thing.  Men and women, women and women, and men and men.  It didn't matter."

"And did you experiment?"

"Can a sentinel see in the dark?"

It was Ellison's turn to chuckle.

Sandburg scooted closer.  "But I never would have thought you did."

"Some."

"Cool."

"I didn't plan this," Jim assured.  "It just sort of happened."

"Look, Jim, I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it.  I mean, like, we spend a lot of time together.  And you are a good looking man."

Ellison could feel the blush on his cheeks and was thankful Sandburg couldn't see it.  "And what did you think?"

"That I wouldn't mind taking our relationship another step forward."

"You sure?" Jim asked.  "Sex would change everything."

"I don't believe that.  Sounds like an excuse to me."

"Maybe."

Blair's hand moved gently along Ellison's arm.  "We could always do what we usually do."

"What's that?" Jim asked, his voice husky.

"We could experiment."  His hand climbed up to Ellison's shoulder and tugged him forward.  He leaned to meet the detective, giving him a light kiss on the lips.

Ellison reached up, pushing the disheveled hair off the younger man's face, then leaned in, kissing him again.  He drew in a breath, then claimed the sweet lips a second time, this time with more force.  Blair's mouth opened, and Jim wasted no time in tasting his prize.  The exploration was reciprocated with abandon.

The two men moved closer, maneuvering so that they sat in each others' arms, their mouths locked together in a blooming passion that threatened to overwhelm them both.

Blair surfaced for air first.  "Oh, man, that was–"

"Good," Jim finished.

"Yeah."

Ellison grabbed his smaller lover and drew him down onto the bed.  Sandburg accepted the invitation, quickly slipping under the covers and snuggling up alongside the detective.  An arm wrapped possessively around Jim's midsection and passion-warmed lips kissed a bare shoulder while the sentinel's hand tangled into the long, soft hair.  He could feel Sandburg's erection along his thigh and shifted his leg, pressing against the younger man's groin.  Blair groaned throatily.

Jim arched up when Sandburg's hand found the front of his boxers and squeezed.  "No," he panted.  "I want this to be slow."

"Speak for yourself, man," Blair said, pulling the boxers down to free Jim's erection.

"Oh, no you don't," Jim growled, pulling back and rolling up so he loomed over Sandburg.  With a low moan, he claimed Blair's mouth again.

Sandburg arched into the kiss, his legs moving against the warm flannel sheets.  Jim took the movement as an invitation and moved so one of his legs slipped between Blair's.  He dipped his hips, brushing his freed cock along the bulge in Blair's boxers.

"Oh, man," the anthropologist breathed.  "Jim, please."

"All in good time," Ellison promised, trailing kisses down the younger man's neck and chest.  He paused to tease each hard nipple, sucking and tonguing the nubs without mercy.

Blair pressed his hip up, trapping Jim's cock between their bodies.  His hands settled on Jim's shoulder, pulling him closer as Jim counterattacked, pressing with his hips and pushing Blair back against the bed.  They reached for each others' erections at the same time.

"Oh, God," Blair gasped.

"Yeah," Jim replied.

Together they urged each other toward release.  Ellison's sense came into sudden focus as his climax neared, the smell of their sex and sweat, heady and intoxicating.  The sound of their breathing, rough and panting, heartbeats racing, the soft groans of pleasure, and Blair's soft words urging him on, begging him not to stop.  The taste of Blair that lingered in his mouth and on his lips, a mixture of sweat, herbs, and the man's own chemistry – sweet, earthy… addicting.  The sight of Sandburg, flushed with passion, his head rolling side to side, eyes closed, a slight smile on his kiss-swollen lips, a picture of pleasure and passion.  But most compelling was what he felt.  The feel of Sandburg's fingers wrapped around his cock, his other hand clamped firmly on his ass.  And his own hand, working the younger man, his leg rubbing against Blair's, their hips pressed together, their hands slipping past each other…

Sensation and need collapsed, swirling into a whirlpool of sensory stimulus that threatened to overwhelm the sentinel.  But as quickly as he lost control he broke through to a perfect clarity of pleasure and feeling unlike anything he'd ever experienced before.

"Jim?" Blair panted softly.  "You okay, man?"

Jim nodded, falling back onto the bed.

"Oh, man," Blair breathed, cuddling up next to Ellison in the rumpled bed.  "That was… amazing.  Did you zone-out there for a second?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Too cool!" Blair said, nuzzling Jim's shoulder.  "I know I sure did and I'm not even a sentinel."

Jim remained his back, starting up at the ceiling.  _What the hell was I thinking?_

_That you wanted him, you got him.  And it was a helluva lot better than you expected.  What are you griping about?_

"Hey, Jim?"

"Huh?"

"You with me?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"Uh-oh," Blair said, pushing himself up to rest on an elbow so he could see Ellison's face.  "What's going on here, Jim?  Second thoughts already?"

Ellison turned his head so he could meet Sandburg's troubled gaze.  "A few."

"Tell me."

He felt the blush touch his cheeks.  "This is going to make me a little… protective."

"Like you haven't been?"

"This is different."

"Why?" Blair asked.  "Jim, nothing's changed.  We're still the same people, we're doing the same job, and we're facing the same bad-guys out there.  You watch out for me, and I appreciate it, but you don't have to do any more than you do.  In fact, if you do, I'll have to give you a serious attitude adjustment."

The serious delivery of the last prompted a soft chuckle.  "All right, I'll see if I can't tone down the blessed protector gig."

"I'd appreciate it… unless I'm in trouble, then you better pretend you're the whole cavalry and come to the rescue on the double.  Got it?"

"Got it," Jim said with a smile.  Reaching up to tug Blair back down, he added, "You really think this is a good idea?"

"I think it'll be as good as we make it."

"It's not going to be easy."

"And it's been easy so far?"

"Good point," Jim admitted.

"Can I ask you one question?"

Jim nodded.  "You can, but I don't promise an answer."

"Fair enough.  How long have you been thinking about… about us– The two of us?"

"I don't know," Jim admitted.  "A while, but I can't tell you a particular day or anything.  I didn't I let myself think about it much."

"Makes sense, I guess."

"Glad you think so.  My subconscious sure didn't think so."

"What?"

"Nothing," Jim said, deciding he wasn't up to explaining the irritating little voice that had driven him to finally act on his desires.  "Look, uh, you wanna stay here the rest of the night?"

"You won't mind?"

"I wouldn't ask if I did."

"Yeah, man, I'd like that."

"Good.  So would I."

The two men shifted in the bed, Blair rolling onto his side and Jim stretching out behind him like two spoons.  He wrapped a arm over Blair's side and rested his hand on the younger man's arm.

"Mmm," Sandburg purred.  "I like this."

"Me, too," Jim admitted.

_See, didn't I tell you you would?_

_Will you shut up?_

_Don't run away from this and I'll keep my mouth shut_.

 _Deal_.

Ellison closed his eyes and listened to Blair's breathing grow slower and deeper as sleep claimed him.  An ache in his bladder reminded him he should have made a trip to the bathroom, but he guessed Sandburg would be a awake soon enough with the same nature call.  Until them he planned on just enjoying the comfort of the man wrapped in his arms.  Resting his cheek against Blair's back, he let the steady beat of the man's heart lull him into sleep.


End file.
